Contained
by Tomorrows Dust
Summary: The wolf surfaced for a moment and left Remus horrified and disgusted with himself at his lack of control. It's up to our favorite animagus to pull the blubbering pile of pitiful snot back together. Sirius actually manages it too. Slash.
1. Chapter 1

Contained

By Tomorrow's Dust

Disclaimer: Honestly, I'm too lazy (or stupid, but I prefer the former) to ever come up with such an ingenious story on my own. I think it's pretty obvious that I don't own Rowling's wicked world, though it would be pretty cool (but also troublesome) if I did. On with the tale.

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Remus was rocking himself as he had shakingly stuck himself in the darkest corner of the room. His agonized cries were muffled by the hands that he'd pressed against his mouth so harshly that his lips bled where his nails pressed too deeply.

Somehow that quiet whimpering made Sirius's heart contract more than if he had been openly wailing.

Sirius walked over to him and sat down, taking care to let the sides of their bodies touch in a very faint brush. Remus tensed, like a prey-animal does when it's been spotted by a predator. What irony, when he was such an unparalleled predator himself.

A stab of compassion surged through Sirius. His friend was so messed-up, so lost.

And he knew that it was partially his fault. All his life, Remus had valiantly fought the wolf for control, giving up everything just to keep his animalistic side at bay. He always payed dearly for it during the full moon, but this way at least, Remus felt that he could lead some semblance of a normal life, though he knew that being ripped apart every month would considerably shorten his life span.

But Remus didn't care about how long he would live, the only thing that mattered to him was feeling human during that time.

And Sirius had taken that away from him. It was because of him, that Remus dared to trust. It was because of him, that Remus dared to feel. It was because of him, that Remus sometimes forgot himself, forgot he was a monster inside, forgot that people like himself were dangerous, forgot that he wasn't supposed to have friends. That he was a vile beast that would've been better of dead.

Sirius had made him forget himself.

He'd made Remus feel almost like a real person and he'd loved it and feared it beyond all compare.

But then he'd slipped up. Remus had become too relaxed and he'd left his emotions a bit of leeway for once. The wolf had always been right underneath the surface, lurking, as an exhilarating dangerous presence on the prowl. Always watching, biding it's time.

And today, it had seen an opportunity. Sirius engaged quite regularly in a fight with the Slytherins, either being the agressor or the victim. Today, he had been the last of the two as the little snakes had ganged up on him, trying to do some lasting damage for once with some organised spellwork, flinging bordeline curses at him.

Something had snapped in Remus. He'd always been the one who kept a cool head, who tried to talk things out. It was one of the reasons, aside from the misguided hope that he could keep James and Sirius in line, that he'd become a prefect.

Now though, rationality was wiped from his mind. All he saw was red and he was consumed with an overwhelming need to hurt, to maim, to kill. The wolf had broken from it's loosened bonds with a vengeance.

In less than a split second, Remus had dropped his bag, crossed the hallway, knocked out two of the attackers and held a third up against the wall by his throat. Instantly there was dead silence.

The part of the group that hadn't met Remus's fists yet had faltered in throwing curses at Sirius and were all staring at Remus in something akin to horror. The wolf smelt the fear coming of his victim in waves and he relished in it. Oh, how he longed to rip open that throat, to taste the warm blood flowing through that tantalizing vein showing in it's neck. This pathetic worm had hurt his pack. Kill, kill, kill...

Eyes of molten gold scrutinized his prey, who was turning quite blue in the face, wanting to enjoy the fight it put up just a little bit longer. He was darkly amused by the helpless kicks the lowly creature rained upon his body, and the mortal fear showing in it's eyes.

Suddenly, Sirius appeared at his elbow, resting a warm reassuring hand on Remus's taunt back.Whispering, no, chanting and pleading for him to calm, for him to stop. The brightly glowing eyes turned itself upon Sirius, while he still effortlessly dangled the boy several inches above the ground. For one terrible instant, when their eyes locked, Sirius was caught in the throes of a paralyzing stab of pure fear. He trembled.

The sudden spike in Sirius's scent jammed Remus back in the driversseat and he stared in horror at his closest friend. Sirius was afraid of him, oh God, he was truly a monster. In shock, he unleashed the boy, never seeing him falling in a heap on the floor, coughing and gasping for air. He never saw the looks of the people around him either, all he saw was Sirius. Sirius and his fearful eyes.

Abrubtly, Remus turned away and started running, he just had to get out of there. Sirius hadn't seemed bothered by the fact that he was a werewolf before, but now, Remus was sure that everything was going to change. Sirius would hate him. He had hurt someone and if he hadn't been stopped, he would've done much worse.

But what truly shook Remus to the core about what had happened was the fact that he'd loved it. He had basked in the stench of fear, craved it even. He was truly a monster. Monster, monster, monster, it kept running through his mind, in a horrible circle of disgust.

He ran to the only place he could think of that could harbour a beast like him. In one agonizing breathless run, he made it to the Shrieking Shack.

Sirius found him there a couple of hours later as a pitiful broken pile of blubbering snot, but not to yell at him, to accuse him, or even to hurt him or worse: denounce their friendship, like Remus had expected. Sirius Black was here to fix.

They sat side by side a very long time, letting Sirius's warmth creep into a hiccuping Remus's skin.

At last, he relaxed enough for Sirus to put one arm around him.

For a moment, he was convinced that Remus would either get up and walk away, or punch the living daylights out of him, but thankfully, he did neither. Instead, he seemed to collapse in onto himself and he pressed himself more firmly into Sirius's side, seeking both his warmth and affirmation. His thin trembling arms hesitantly snaked around Sirius.

He seemed so vulnerable all of a sudden that another crippling wave of sympathy washed over Sirius. Finally, the dog animagus pulled Remus into a secure embrace.

The dam broke completely. Everything that Remus had ever bottled up before, and that was a lot, came out in an unstoppable rush. Remus clawed his hands into Sirius's shirt and held on suffocating tight while he kept crying and murmuring incomprehensible things. He held on like it was his lifeline, like his was drowning, and in a way he was.

Sirius didn't offer him any meaningless reassurances. He just held Remus wrapped in his arms, and rocked him, like he had rocked himself before.

When Sirius's shirt held a big wet spot from tears and snot alike, the werewolf started to slow down for a moment.

Unfortunately, that didn't mean the emotional drama was over. Sirius spent the whole night by Remus's side, never letting him go, because he knew that was what his friend needed most.

Remus was so far gone in his grief and self-loathing that he tried to hurt himself sometimes, clawing at his own face, or his arms, or anything else that he could reach.

Sometimes he gagged on his cries, choking on his tears to the point of dry heaving. And sometimes he seemed to be nearly delirious. Sirius hated those moments the most.

He felt so utterly useless, so completely unable to do anything, it was beyond frustrating. How do you go about convincing someone that he's worthy of friendship, worthy of happiness when that person is being wracked with genuine self-hate?

Remus begged for hours and hours for forgiveness with a fevered gleam in his eyes. He was unrelenting, pleading and begging like his very soul depended on it. It was far beyond Sirius's reach, especially the times when Remus wasn't asking forgiveness from him.

Then, Remus would beg every know deity on the planet, and some unknown. He would beg his parents, the world, the earth itself. He even literally tried to pull his own hair from his skull and he would shrink even more into himself and clutch more desperatly at Sirius, trying to keep himself anchored. Such a battered piece of person. There was an ache in his chest and a distinctly uncomfortable feeling in Sirius's throat when powerlessly observing how his friend was falling to pieces.

It seemed Remus could never get close enough to him, nearly trying to crawl into his skin. Did he think that Sirius could make it better? Did he think that Sirius could save him if he just came close enough?

Remus frightened him. The one person famous at Hogwarts for his fearlessness was absolutely scared out of his wits, because he just didn't know how to fix this.

The one person Sirius had thought nearly infallible, indestructible even, was falling apart before his very eyes and there wasn't a damn thing that he could do about it. If he ever hated anything in life, it was feeling helpless.

He never answered Remus's pleadings and he never shushed him when he cried out. He was just there and somehow, it was enough.

That day was, despite the turbulent night, a day of positive change. Something healed inside Remus that he hadn't known was broken. Some tightly wound up cold knot that had always been present somewhere in the pit of his stomach had released some of it's unbearable pressure and Remus found that for the first time in ages, for the first time since he could remember, he could breath easily.

A peculiar sort of understanding had passed between the two and served to deepen their bond even more. A new unbreakable connection was forged as the wrung out tawny haired boy put his head under Sirius's chin and allowed himself to be lulled to sleep by his strong and reassuring heartbeat.

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Author's notes: I just write something here to make myself feel important and stroke my own overlarge ego since there aren't too people willing to do it for me. (Okay, admittedly I'm just a poor sucker without any reviews, but you didn't need to know that) Wanna change that, (pretty pretty please) then the answer is simple. Make my day and review! I'd love to know what you think of the story (and if anyone is actually reading this). Sigh... I'll give you a cookie if you send in something (attempting an adorable look) I'm not above begging you know. Anyway, I knew I was going somewhere with this. Eh, right, well, I'll be off writing something else now


	2. the mirror image

The mirror image

By Tomorrows Dust

Disclaimer: when in doubt, do check the previous chapter. It'll assure you that I don't own anything besides my own crazy fantasies. How cruel, to keep reminding me that the characters don't belong to me.

To all the lovely reviewers, thank you. I have already thanked most of you personally and though some of you quite plainly freaked me out with your crazy threats (I'm winking at you), you have also given me the inspiration to put together another chapter though it was originally intended as a one-shot. I seriously don't know where this story is supposed to be going but I can write books about emotional turmoil so here. Ohja, and this will have more slash too, because Sirius and Remus are obviously made for each other.

May Eve, MoonyIsTheMan, Vikertee, hydraspit, Wuff, Zookitty, Kate, Strange Magic, Sarah, Neb 92, Kaet100 and LilythsBlood, thank you all very much for taking the time to review.

Special thanks to Angel, who was absolutely spot on and really touched something inside. I hope you'll read this. And of course, my friend Anne, whose review made me laugh so hard I actually fell of my chair.

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Remus was standing in front of a mirror, staring at his own reflection. He didn't recognize the face in the glass. It was empty, hollow somehow.

He didn't know the person staring back at him. It was supposed to be him, and yet it wasn't. The face was too harsh, too cold and the eyes were fierce, burning with a strange intensity that unsettled him. They were alive. That didn't fit at all with what Remus felt inside, so the boy on the other side of the glass couldn't be him.

Detachedly, he reached up with his hand and traced a fresh scar, running from his hairline to his chin. The person in the mirror copied his movements. How decidedly odd. _'This isn't me.' _

The boy kept looking at him, staring him straight in the eye. It was making him uncomfortable and Remus wished he would just stop. Didn't the glass-person know that it was rude to stare? _'Look away, please, why are you staring at me?' _

He couldn't turn his eyes away. Drinking in the sight of this stranger was almost a physical need that burned under his skin. Remus didn't feel much altogether, just some kind of vague discomfort that a person could be staring at him so boldly and yet so unseeing.

He didn't have a shirt on and he felt oddly naked, but deep inside he knew that he would have still felt exposed even if he had been bundled up in clothing fit for a person living on the North pole.

He sensed that he should know this boy, that he must mean something, but Remus couldn't for the life of him figure out what that would be. Numb. He felt dead.

The glass-person wasn't very beautiful, scars ran in patterns over every inch of his skin and he had frightening eyes, Remus thought. Like beams of light in a dark room they stood out in the gaunt face with more bones than was possible. A skeleton with too much skin.

It took Remus quite a while to figure out what it was exactly that he disliked about those eyes. They were old and very tired, but they also gleamed. There were no sparkles, twinkles or shines, just a steely gleam. Strength.

Fight, there was a fight in those strange orbs that belonged to him, and yet didn't. Survival. Always getting up again. Not his eyes, this wasn't Remus. _'Why do I keep fighting?' _

The eyes burned. It was life and light all at the same time. It didn't match with Remus at all. Being caught in that gaze scared him, his defenses seemed less solid, his mask less secure. It made him jittery, because Remus didn't think anyone existed behind that wall anymore. _'Who is that person in the mirror, I don't know him.' _

His hand traced another scar without his consent. This one had the shape of a star. He didn't even have to look at it, he remembered the feel of teeth gnawing and tearing. He had done it himself after all. Had the artistic lines not been filled with memories of searing agony, it could have been quite pretty. The boy in the glass traced the scar too and he never let his eyes stray from the person in the world.

The eyes were a little sad and so very much alive, breathing and touching all that it could reach. Suddenly Remus became aware of an unfamiliar feeling, unfurling in his stomach.

Unable to move, he helplessly remained in place when the awkward sensation sneaked tendrils throughout his whole body, awaking his nerves. They even reached his silent heart.

Dazed, Remus placed his cold hand over the region. How strange. '_It is actually beating.'_ In the back of his mind there was a tiny hint of surprise. His eyes had left the mirror and focused on the trembling limb instead, hesitantly touching his marred flesh above the place that had gone very quiet and still a long time ago. Something was hurting and it came from inside.

He became aware that someone was shaking him, calling his name. He hadn't noticed the person coming into the bathroom. Panicky bespectacled eyes worriedly peered into his while strong hands gripped his shoulders. 'Are you okay? What's wrong Moony? Talk to me, please, just say something? Moony...Moony, come on, talk to me!'

Remus cocked his head a little in contemplation, leant almost drunkenly forward and whispered: _'there is someone in the mirror.' _Then he smiled a bit. It wasn't a nice smile. He didn't notice James running out again and screaming for Sirius to get his ass down here. The boy behind the glass was staring at him again.

That person wasn't him. Remus was dead inside and this mirror-person breathed life. Complete opposites. _'Why do I keep getting up?' _

Remus reached out his hand and touched the cool surface of the glass. Two hands met, both equally cold. It scared him, this person scared him. _'I don't know who I am anymore.' _

In a bout of fury and unchecked rage Remus punched the mirror and watched as it shattered like everything else in his life seemed to do. All the broken pieces fell to the floor in a cheerful clatter reminiscent of a glass waterfall and it hurt, because all those little broken shards were more like him than the person in the mirror had been.

The frame was empty, devoid of anything it had been before with only the occasional leftover piece of the mirror still stuck in the corners. Yeah, it was exactly like Remus. Completely destroyed until only an empty frame remained.

Silently he stood there, in the middle of a bathroom, surrounded by pieces of himself. He didn't understand anymore, he just didn't get it. _'Who am I?' _

Sirius burst in through the door and nearly slipped on the mess Remus had made. Sirius didn't even slow down. There wasn't a single ounce of hesitancy in his step when he made it to Remus's side and threw his arms around him from behind.

Nothing showed that Remus had even noticed that someone had come in, or that he was being embraced. He kept staring at the floor uncomprehendingly, silent. Instead of panicking like James had done, Sirius rested his head on Remus's tense shoulder and started talking.

He talked complete nonsense, about the transfiguration classes, about the special shampoo the resident greasy git surely needed, about boxers or briefs and other inane things. He kept speaking like there wasn't a care in the world, using his low timbre to draw Remus out of... where ever it was that he was stuck.

It worked. After a while Remus relaxed a bit and leaned into the warmth at his back. Somewhere in the middle of Sirius's story about flying purple hats he interrupted. Remus whispered: 'I was looking in the mirror, but I didn't recognize the person staring back at me.'

Now that Remus had let that off his chest and was feeling safe with Sirius's support, he couldn't seem to stop talking. 'I just don't know who I am anymore. The wolf has always been close to the surface, but now it's different. I've become him and he has become me and yet it's not the wolf I see when I look into the mirror. I don't understand. I just don't understand.'

Remus's lost little voice trailed off and he rested his cheek against Sirius's, sighing desolately. Sirius didn't understand either because he didn't have a predator living inside him and he had trouble even imagining what it would feel like.

But he did know what Remus needed and so he wrapped his arms a little tighter around his friend and asked: 'Then what do you see in the mirror?' Remus needed to understand it himself.

The werewolf was silent for a very long time, trying to put it into words. He stumbled over the explanation, feeling he was messing it up and yet at the same time, it was becoming all the more clear to himself.

'There is darkness inside me and yet the person in the glass seems to diffuse light into the world, and then there's strength too. He seems so strong. Like nothing can make him lay his head down for long. But that's not me. That person in the mirror is not me because inside I'm really scared and it's really dark and I'm not strong at all. I'm not wise or good, I carry a lot of resentment, even hatred. I don't recognize him.'

'He scares me Siri, he really does,' Remus admonished in a broken whisper. He seemed dead on his feet and Sirius was probably the only thing keeping him upright.

'Why did you break the mirror?' Sirius murmured in his ear. Remus's eyes flew open wide and he forgot to breath for a moment. The shards still decorated the floor and Remus stared at them for a moment in silent wonder.

He understood now. All those pieces were him, they represented the messed-up life of Remus Lupin to the point. But the boy in the mirror had also been him as the embodiment of all those shards, as just another part of him. The mask perhaps, of even who he really was inside.

In the back of his mind, a voice snorted wryly. This kind of distorted explanation could only be logical to people who have lost their minds. Though it should be noted that it didn't deny the truth of the statement.

Explaining this to Sirius or knowing who Remus had seen in the mirror exactly wasn't important anymore. He felt alive. The numbness had gone and warmth returned to his fingers.

With a tired and yet brilliant smile on his scarred visage, he turned to face Sirius. Remus looped his arms around Sirius's neck. 'You always know how to fix me,' he stated.

Sirius knew no such thing, he was always completely at a loss when dealing with emotions, but he was hesitant to break that particular one of Remus's illusions. So he just smiled back.

No one knew quite who had started it, who had leant in first, but somehow their lips met in the softest of kisses. The touch was no more than the faintest skimming of skin but it awakened an inferno of feelings, of heat.

Suddenly desperate, Remus attacked Sirius's lips with his own, wanting more, needing more. His teeth grazed Sirius's lower lip, pulling on it a little. The wolf in Remus was very much aware of the shiver of anticipation that swept through the other boy at the action.

That was definitely worth a repeat in his view. Remus swiped his tongue over Sirius's lips, teasing him, drawing him out. Sirius moaned quietly and only the vibrations deep in his throat gave him away.

It made Remus more confident and more eager to plunder Sirius's mouth till he knew each and every little part of it by heart.

In a very mysterious and unexplainable way, Sirius's one hand had ended up in Remus's hair, playing with the locks, while the other had found it's way under his shirt, caressing the skin.

Every little touch set their nerves on fire, letting heat pool wherever they met. Suddenly, Sirius's fingers touched a very sensitive place on the side of Remus's neck. Remus broke his mouth from Sirius's in favor of panting in his ear and groaning deeply. Sirius was nearly incoherent by now and the sound send him almost over the edge.

They tried to get closer, pulling on each other. It wasn't anywhere near enough. An insatiable hunger had settled itself in their underbellies and it would not be satisfied by mere kisses and touches. Closer. They had to get closer. Hands ripping at belts, shirts being thrown off and carelessly tossed to the ground. Closer.

More skin met, more sensations flew through them. Then Sirius accidentally stepped on one of the shards lying all around them. The horrible loud crunching sound had them both cringing and they froze in their places.

Had anyone walked in at that precise moment they would have found the sight highly amusing.

Both young man were looking like kids that were caught red-handed with their hands in the cookie-jar, though it would perhaps be prudent if that word were replaced by pants.

Both had an equally stupid look on their face, panting and flushed and not quite able to form coherent sentences yet.

They looked at each other for a moment and promptly burst out laughing. The situation was completely ridiculous. Any tension that had sprung between them from the immediate doubt in both of their minds -_will he want to forget this ever happened?_- flowed away as if it had never been there in the first place.

James's voice called from the dorm if everything was all right now. It was, Remus realized as he reassured his friend. It really was.

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Author's notes: Well, not much to say anymore. (I'm bouncing in my seat, it just has to get out!) Please review! I love anything you put in there and I'd like to hear what you think of this chapter, or this story in general. Where do you think it should be going? Make my day and press that button!


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